Bonnie+L

== Aaah, the sweet aroma of cinnamon floods me with memories of Sunday mornings at Grandmas. The distinct scent of homemade cinnamon rolls float to sleeping children. Groggy feet hit the floor as the delicious scents of Grandma’s baking filtered through the house. The once quiet house is now bustling with yawns, good mornings, and the pitter patter of tiny footsteps, along with occasion grunt “leave me alone.” Descending down the rickety stairwell, my brothers and I compete to see who will reach Grandma’s waist first. Grandma would devour us in her strong arms as she launched us up into the air with bear hugs and “granny smooches.” The battle raged on as my brother and I would dash to the “Kiddies Table” and claim our spot. Grandma always had to play referee. In front of us she placed a giant glass of milk and proclaimed,” Milk will make you grow up big and strong, so drink up.” Followed was the gooiest cinnamon roll with a spatter of melted butter gliding down its steamy side. Without hesitation we grabbed our forks and plunged in. Grandma always warned, “You kids better slow down. You chew your food 32 times or you’ll get a tummy ache.” With cinnamon filled smiles, we glanced up at Grandma as she returned the gaze with love in her smile

Spending time in the principal’s office was foreign to me as a child.. Not a verbal warning, a mark on the board, even a stern look. Most definitely not a call home I was the quiet little Ms. Princess who always pleased her teachers. One day as we were outside a green monster that I had never seen before roared its ugly mouth in not so princess like manner. Was it anger, jealousy, or just mean spirited childishness? I’m not sure. Out of the innocent, shy, polite little princess turned monster came in a chanting/melody voice, “Lisa and Allen are kissin in the tire” I ran around the playground and spread the news. In tears, my friend, yes friend, Lisa ran to the comfort of Mrs. Walker’s arms. Allen just looked around in bewilderment with that dumb, but cute look on his face. A subtle hush came over the playground and the children who had been laughing, parted like the Red Sea to make way for Mrs. Daukhorn. She marched straight toward me as I trembled with fear cowardly looked away. Avoiding the stare did not help me escape. Not wanting to focus on the giant, shame would not allow me to remain in my vagrant phase of mind. As I turned I saw the giant standing directly in front of me with her hands perched on her hips burning a whole in me. Her stumpy finger pointed directly at me and motioned for me to come with her. Not a word was uttered, as slinked toward her office. Random thoughts bounced around in my mind about the Principal Mrs. Trunchbull in the book Matilda that we had been reading. The halls were quiet as we marched to the cubical of the teachers’ workroom. It was a square in the center of all four fourth grade classrooms with windows all the away around it. When someone would get in trouble as was taken into the “glass cage” the blinds would be drawn so know one could see the beatings begin, so we thought.

Gentle Voice powerful insight

Gifted writer Eager learner

Innocent Sweetness creative genius

Intimidating brilliance Friendly literate

Active learner Gentle spirit

Mathematician Wonderful words

Outgoing overachiever Inspiration

Perfectionist Friendly critic

Quiet exterior Pure heart

Master teacher Comrade

Nervous apprehension Perseverance

Powerful leader Student learner

Self-critic Triumphant conqueror